


Prevention

by Sarah1281



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Crack, First Meetings, Fix-It, Gen, Parody, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:45:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/pseuds/Sarah1281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The how wasn't important, just the why. And since Javert had managed to end up back in 1795, he knew that there was only one thing to do: stop Valjean from causing him no end of problems by preventing him from being a criminal in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prevention

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the YoungJavert blog on tumblr.

How exactly Javert had managed to get the ability to relive his life was really not important. In fact, it was something that he didn’t really want to think about. He would miss Gymont but when Gymont was ready to be a police horse again then he would seek him out and once more unleash justice on criminals together. 

It was just that he was planning no there being one less criminal in the world for them to have to chase. And while it might be strange to no longer have to worry about hunting down a certain convict, he knew that it would be irresponsible to just do his one good deed and then disappear. You had to take responsibility for your actions and he could not say that he minded at all. 

His first course of action was to leave the Monsieur’s house (vowing never to return and possibly to investigate the man for criminal activities once he joined the police force) and to start placing bets on things that he knew were going to happen very shortly. Ordinarily, he would feel guilty for taking advantage of people who had no way of knowing that he could not lose these bets but he had warned everyone that he knew what the future held. The fact that they thought it was some gypsy thing and thus didn’t take it seriously was hardly his fault. He had tried. 

He had also made as much money as he thought he would need and he could also make more if he needed it until he could rely on a steady paycheck. 

He then headed to the small town that Jean Valjean was born in. 

Being only fifteen at the time and travelling alone, one might expect that he was harassed on his journey. One would be forgetting that, de-aged or not, he still retained his expert knowledge (gained through years of experience) of making a criminal think twice before crossing him. There was a reason people dared not fire on him and often just surrendered when he came to the scene. He did not have his reputation yet but he still had a manner that strongly suggested that people let him be. 

If only he had had such abilities when he was actually fifteen. But no matter. He had them now. 

He actually arrived in town the day before Valjean was fated to become a vile criminal and so was left with nothing to do but wait. He took a cheap room (just because he could have engaged a fancier room was no reason to waste money) and passed a quiet evening. The next morning, he took stock of the town, just in case he might learn something that would prove useful later. 

He wished that he could have arrived a little closer to the time that he needed to be there but he had not wanted to cut it too close and risk being delayed and failing in his mission. What was the point in going back in time and reliving more than thirty years if he wasn’t even going to get to Valjean first? 

When night fell, he took up a post out of sight near the bakery and waited. 

Eventually, when it was late, he spotted his man. 

Jean Valjean looked different, young and starving and untouched by the stench of Toulon as he was. He had seen Valjean at his lowest when he was but 24601, lying his way into being appointed mayor by the king, and posing as a revolutionary so he had thought he had seen all the sides of Valjean. 

Apparently he was wrong. He looked…almost like so many other poor people he had come across over the course of his duty. Almost. He was still Valjean and Javert would always recognize him. 

It might be impossible for people to change for the better, only to fall further into degradation but if the initial fall did not occur then change would be needless. 

Javert stood there watching Valjean stand there watching the bread that the baker had displayed in the window. He watched as Valjean seemed to come to a decision and straighten his shoulders before looking around for something to break the window with. 

Heedless of the fact that he wasn’t fully grown while Valjean was strong enough to lift a cart and that he was alone without even the familiar and much-loved cloak of authority , Javert hurried forward. When Valjean found nothing and drew back his own fist to break the glass, Javert caught his wrist. 

He was not strong enough to forcibly stop Valjean but the shock of it caused Valjean to freeze and look curiously at him. “What?” 

“Breaking glass with your fist is a stupid idea,” Javert said bluntly. “You’ll just get yourself all cut up and get blood everywhere. And bleeding in this weather is an even worse idea.” 

“I was not going to break the glass!” Valjean denied, pulling his hand away. 

Javert gave him his most unimpressed look and, to his delight, Valjean flushed. “I saw everything. I grabbed your hand while you were moving to strike the glass.” 

A few years in Toulon and 24601 would have denied it further but Valjean just frowned. “Since you did I did not do anything wrong. And there was nothing else to break the glass with.” 

“Maybe you should have taken that as a sign not to break the glass in the first place,” Javert said pointedly. 

“Who are you anyway?” Valjean demanded. “What business is this of yours?” 

“I am someone with a keen interest in the law,” Javert said simply. “And you are someone who should really consider whether he really wants to spend nineteen years in Toulon and be considered a criminal scum forever for stealing some bread.” 

Valjean started. “You are mad.” 

“I am not,” Javert denied pleasantly. 

“If I had broken the glass and stolen every loaf in this place I would not have received nineteen years!” Valjean said confidently. 

“I’m factoring in the four escape attempts,” Javert explained. “The original sentence was only five.” 

“Why would I attempt to run four times and get an additional four years?” Valjean demanded. “I would not!” 

“Let us agree to disagree then,” Javert suggested. 

Valjean gaped at him and then shook his head before turning to walk away. 

Javert felt a slight panic flare up in him. “You can’t just leave!” 

“Why not?” Valjean asked rhetorically though he did stop and turn back to Javert. “I have done nothing wrong.” 

“Only because I was literally right here personally stopping you from breaking the law,” Javert pointed out. “What’s to stop you from robbing somewhere else after you leave here?” 

“You’re not following me home!” Valjean exclaimed. “I give you my word, Monsieur, that I am going to go straight home.” 

“Or if not tonight then tomorrow night or some other night?” Javert pressed. 

“You cannot stay with me forever stopping me from breaking the law,” Valjean pointed out. He unfortunately had a point. “And it really is none of your concern, anyway.” 

“Law-breakers are always my concern!” Javert insisted. 

“If I succumb to temptation again, and I assure you I have no intention to, you may rest assured knowing that those five years in Toulon will be an adequate punishment,” Valjean told him. 

“Nineteen,” Javert corrected. “And do not forget about the lifetime of infamy.” 

Valjean sighed. “I will not, I assure you.” 

Javert stood there for a moment, staring carefully at Valjean. “I do not believe you.” 

“W-what?” Valjean asked incredulously. “What don’t you believe me about? That I won’t remember what you’ve said? I highly doubt I could ever forget about this strange meeting if I wanted to.” 

Javert perked up a little at the ‘if I wanted to’ part. This was actually going quite well. 

“I just don’t believe that you will refrain from stealing in the future. You may not have seen the galleys or even the convicts on their way there but you cannot have failed to notice how we view criminals. And you must have noticed that the baker lives in this same building. Glass smashing is not quiet. That you thought you could get away with something like this indicates either a great deal of stupidity or a complete disrespect for the law,” Javert lectured. 

Valjean flushed and his hands clenched. “I am not stupid.” 

“I don’t believe that you are,” Javert assured him. “But there must be something wrong with you if you would risk this, knowing that you would not succeed.” 

“I did not think about success or risks or any of that,” Valjean said in a low voice. 

Javert knew that the natural next question would be ‘then why are you doing this?’ but he was not about to ask someone why they were going to commit a crime, even if they were not actually a criminal. 

“My sister has seven children. The oldest child is nine and the youngest is two. Her husband died last year and she cannot do much work with the children as young as they are. We have no food and have not had any these past few days. There is no work to be found and the winter is cruel and unforgiving. I try to support them but there is nothing. What could I do?” Valjean demanded. 

Javert had heard all this before. In fact, he didn’t even mean that in a ‘he had heard all manner of tragic stories from all manner of criminals, most of them probably false’ way, either. Valjean had actually mentioned all of this back in Toulon. No, he hadn’t been confiding in Javert but he had been trying to get Javert to stop behaving as if he were a dangerous criminal. It had not worked, of course, but Javert had remembered. And since he had the same story now, it was probably even true. 

“You could not break the law and abandon them by spending the next nineteen years in Toulon,” Javert said flatly. 

“What would you do then?” Valjean challenged. 

“I would join the police force and have a steady paycheck with which to support my overly large family,” Javert replied promptly. 

This made Valjean stop. “Join the police force?” he repeated as if the idea had never occurred to him. Valjean had a most unfortunate tendency to not think things through (as evidenced by his stupid crime, his four escape attempts, his declaration to a court of law that he was actually a convict, ect) so it probably had not. 

“Yes.” 

Valjean started laughing and Javert’s lips pursed in anger. He was trying to help and this should-be criminal was laughing at him! Maybe he should just walk away and let him spend his life a slave of the law. Maybe then he would have some actual respect for it. 

“I’m sorry,” Valjean apologized, seeing the look on Javert’s face. “It’s just that tonight I went from nearly becoming a convict to it being suggested that I join the police. You could not get two more different futures than that.” 

“No,” Javert grudgingly agreed, a small smile tugging at his own lips. “But surely one of them is more appealing than the other? And the police are always looking for good men. I think someone as strong as you will be quite the find for them.” 

Valjean laughed again and shook his head. “I wouldn’t even know how to begin to become a policeman.” 

“I have some ideas,” Javert assured him. “Though I will not be able to become one myself for a little while yet. It will be easiest in Paris.” 

Valjean stared at him. “I can’t just go to Paris.”

“Why not?” Javert asked, annoyed at the obstacle. 

“I do not have the money for bread, let along such a lengthy journey! And what about my family?” Valjean asked reasonably. 

Javert waved the concerns off. “I have the money. And you can bring them, too, if you must.” 

“I must, yes,” Valjean said dryly. “I can’t go to Paris and become a policeman with you.”

“Why not?” Javert asked, slightly encouraged that Valjean had not said that he did not want to. 

“I don’t even know your name!” 

“I am Javert,” Javert introduced. 

“I am Jean Valjean,” Valjean returned the favor, holding out his hand for Javert to shake. 

Javert took the hand and shook it, noticing that – despite how calloused it still was – it looked much better without the years of Toulon influencing it. 

“I suggest we leave within the week,” Javert told him. 

“Are you serious?” Valjean asked uncertainly. 

“I am not one for jokes,” Javert replied. 

“Why would you spend your money moving me and my family to Paris?” Valjean asked, stunned. 

“Once you save somebody’s life, and saving you from Toulon is certainly saving you, then you are responsible for it,” Javert said wisely. “I also do not like having my time wasted and if you just end up in Toulon later then this evening will have been a complete and total waste of time.” As would the next thirty years. 

“I…need to talk this over with Jeanne,” Valjean said dizzily. That was probably the sister. 

“I’ll go with you,” Javert decided. 

Valjean looked too overwhelmed to even protest. 

Javert looked up. The stars were shining brightly in approval for his deed. “While we walk, perhaps I could tell you about Polaris…”


End file.
